


Make You Feel

by Lliyk



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anticipation, Attempt at Humor, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Everyone is Bisexual, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Mutual Pining, No I’m Not Accepting Arguments, Non-bending AU, POV Alternating, Porn With Plot, Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, prompted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lliyk/pseuds/Lliyk
Summary: A smatter of cupcake icing had met his cheek, secondary only to the harsh blush that bloomed there from the way she fit so seamlessly against his chest. He’d stopped her from falling with one arm curled protectively around her waist, right there for everyone to see on the busy cafe floor. Brilliant blue eyes framed by dense lashes had looked up at him in surprise. Instantly —instantly— his brain defaulted to defunct. She was touching him, looking at him. So breathtaking up close.She ran her fingers over the line of his scar. Cleaned away the evidence from the pad of her thumb with a flicker of curling pink.Sorry, Zuko, she’d said ever simply while brandishing cloth from her apron. She’d wiped leftover sugar from his face.Thanks for the save...She was barely gone from in front of them before the words blurted from his mouth.
Relationships: Jet/Katara (Avatar), Jet/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 117
Kudos: 206





	1. Jet.

**Author's Note:**

> for [anon](https://slpytea.tumblr.com/post/642580687682224128/), who requested _jetkotara_. hope you like it! [Make You Feel by Alina Baraz](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=p0g5IqLHR8yo89_nAIRURw) on repeat. comments are fuel ♡.
> 
>   
> ___________  
>  ~~YES i am working the last chapter to~~ [Give It Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015778) is now complete! you can stop looking at me now ok.  
> 

* * *

“Are you sure about this?”

Jet looks at his boyfriend with exasperation, though it isn’t without fondness. For weeks they have been discussing this — the what, the how, the why, the _who_ — and his position on the matter has shifted very little, despite the initial shock of the idea.

_We should ask her out sometime._

It had been little more than an absent mutter, and more by way of friendship than anything else, Jet knew, but the thought — the image, and the _feeling_ that had strangely come along with it — had stuck with him throughout their meal that day. By the time they were ready to pay and leave he’d given a conscious answer.

 _We should_ , he agreed.

Katara has been a lead at Wu’s Cafe for little longer than the season. They had both been sad to see Song go — the three of them had been easy friends for a while, and nobody knew their breakfast and lunch orders quite like she did — but Katara had banished both of their fears of interrupted routines in what had felt like no time at all. Their conversations between breakfast pick-ups and tea tin orders were brief though entertaining. She was witty, kind, always added an extra shot of hazelnut to his coffee, and _never_ forgot to take the nuts out of his morning ash-banana muffin top. Jet wagers that if she starts lingering any longer around their usual table during lunch hours, that she could probably even be considered a friend.

As far as he’s concerned they have nothing to lose.

It certainly helps that she’s stunning to boot — her dark hair and ocean eyes are what originally caught his attention, too. 

“This was your idea,” Jet reminds his boyfriend evenly, turning his gaze back to the shop’s busy floor. “I’m not going to do anything without your consent.”

“But what if she says no?”

“Baby boy.” Jet smirks, here. He’s been answering this question for weeks, too. “Have you seen us? She’s not going to say no.”

Zuko runs his thumb anxiously over the rim of his mug. “She’ll say no.”

 _Someone has a crush_ , Jet thinks as he resists the urge to sigh. Instead, he changes tactics. He scoots closer to his boyfriend in their booth and drops his mouth to the shell of his scarred ear.

“Aren’t you the one who said she’d look pretty in our bed?”

Jet doesn’t need to see the rest of Zuko’s face to know that he’s blushing. The tick in his jaw and the drop of his gaze tells him plenty, and more.

“Will you—!” Zuko shoots him an annoyed glare. “Keep it _down_ , Jet.”

Jet lowers his mouth and places a chaste kiss to his neck. “Down here?” He teases, but he leans back before Zuko gets more flustered than he already is. “Tell you what. Why don’t we just leave my number with her tip today?”

“ _Your_ number?”

Jet doesn’t even blink. “Unless you’d _rather_ talk to her first..?”

 _Like we planned_ doesn’t have to be said. Zuko’s fingers twitch around the arm of his cup, and he mumbles something that Jet misses.

“Hmm?” He jests. “I didn’t catch that, your highness.”

“Shut up.” Zuko rolls his eyes. “I _said_ that I’ll do it.”

“Excellent!” Jet plucks the mug from his boyfriend’s grip and unceremoniously begins shoving him out of the booth. He ignores all attempts to sit back down by crossing his legs pointedly across the seat. “You’ve got this, Zu,” he smiles, and Zuko sighs in reluctant defeat. Really, you’d think he wanted nothing to do with the pretty little thing working the counter. “just remember to relax, okay?”

“I know how to ask people out, Jet.” Zuko gripes.

Jet takes a sip from the cup still in his hand. “I know, darlin’.”

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“ _Only_ if you hurry up.” Jet beams.

Zuko huffs, but he _does_ march toward the order counter. Jet watches him stand in line with keen eyes, grinning into his stolen tea with delighted, lazy victory.

Zuko tucks his half unbound hair behind his ears just as the couple in front of him is whisked away to be seated. Jet looks his boyfriend over with both ardor and amusement, chuckling quietly to himself as Zuko props his elbows casually on the counter and crosses his legs at the ankle. His boyfriend is wearing a simple fit today, just jeans and a navy tee, but the fabric hugs him nicely in all the ways Jet likes, and the thick braid of gold around his wrist brings attention to the set of gleaming bands that decorate his hands.

“Rokura!” Katara lights up when she sees who’s at the counter. “What can I get you...” 

Zuko plasters a smirk on his face, but Jet can see how it borders on a genuine smile even from their booth. Whatever he says is too quiet to hear, but Katara’s reaction is as loud as any word. Her mouth parts as her brows shoot up, and her wide blue gaze flicks immediately over to him. Jet holds her stare and sips slowly from his stolen drink, wondering what she’ll do as she turns back to Zuko.

“So?” Jet asks, once Zuko reclaims his seat. “Did she reject us?”

“Tomorrow.” Zuko steals his tea back. There’s an undeniable thing of a smile starting at his mouth. “She said that dinner together sounds nice.”

“As friends?” Jet probes. “Or...”

The smile nearly splits Zuko’s face. “No, not as friends.”

The answer shocks him. His sureness of her acceptance was false bravado at best — she’s just _so_ very out of their league. Jet flicks his gaze to the cafe’s order counter, but brilliant blue already meet his stare. A wave of amusement has him flashing his teeth in a tiny smirk. For the first time since meeting her, Katara blushes before glancing away to greet the next customer.

When it comes time to pay and go, Zuko heads out while Jet handles the bill. Only once he’s stepped out to meet his boyfriend on the curb does he see the ink on the receipt.

**_(672) 010 0024_ \- _K._**

_Well_ , Jet thinks, _would you look at that._

He ignores the dragonflies that take up home in his chest.


	2. Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [song on](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=-AVGO2CNSZKSC-ZpdfQY3g)! also... _outstanding_ feedback. thanks guys, you know it means the world ♡.

* * *

The moment Zuko had laid eyes on her, he knew. Dark umber skin and a cool soothing cadence had caught his attention from the jump, but it was that sunshine smile and unwavering gaze that had ensured his lingering interest. Upon meeting her he’d found that while she was perfectly polite, she was whip-smart, no-nonsense, and shared his tone in humor; the quiet wry that underlined her every word having easily put a quirk to his mouth. To top it all off, he’d come to learn that she was reassuringly professional. Each of his worries before walking into Wu’s Cafe that fateful day — re-establishing himself as a major tea client, going over Jet’s nut allergy, making sure their food was right on time for their routinely shared lunch breaks on work days — had vanished, promptly, after making simple greetings. 

_Rokura, right?_ _Good morning_ , she’d presented their bentos and tins to him with a smile and a flourish, pointing out the details as if she’d always worked the morning shift. _Jasmine, loose leaf. Muffintop, no nuts. Receipt for your tin is tapped to the back. Don’t hesitate to call the counter if anything is out of order!_

Zuko had accepted the package and returned to Jet just outside in a near daze, awestruck and confused at the way his heart raced. _Was that the new girl?_ Jet had muttered his sentiments. _Well_. _I’ll be damned._

And damned was right. Something about her — about _Katara_ — drew him in as a moth drew toward flame. In the span of a single winter, his interest morphed into crush. He’d prepared to live with it silently for the rest of his days, the way he had fleeting daydreams about her smile and _other_ fuzzy feelings that her mouth might possibly bring him. He vowed to never look too long. He decided not to mention it to his boyfriend. 

But naturally, one day, Katara stumbled into him with a tray of dessert while he’d been waiting for Jet to meet him for lunch. A smatter of cupcake icing had met his cheek, secondary only to the harsh blush that bloomed there from the way she fit so seamlessly against his chest. He’d stopped her from falling with one arm curled protectively around her waist, right there for everyone to see on the busy cafe floor. Brilliant blue eyes framed by dense lashes had looked up at him in surprise. Instantly — _instantly_ — his brain defaulted to defunct. She was touching him, looking at him. So breathtaking up close. 

She ran her fingers over the line of his scar. Cleaned away the evidence from the pad of her thumb with a flicker of curling pink. _Sorry, Zuko_ , she’d said ever simply while brandishing cloth from her apron. She’d wiped leftover sugar from his face. _Thanks for the save._

In the same graceful fashion in which he’d seen her do all else, Katara swept herself out of his arms and danced away with the tray in less than a beat. Before he could muster a single word of assurance properly.

He’d remained in line silently, mid whirling with fresh memory. _Flickering pink. Flickering pink. A cool touch_ and _perfect against me — sorry, Zuko,_ and _fuck. Fuck, she used my name._

That had been the first and the last time.

His boyfriend had found him at their usual table with his hands curled tightly around his steaming tea mug. Jet had laid a kiss to his wrist in his typical charming fashion; his dark earthen gaze had been as keen as always, flashing as they always did when he caught on to Zuko’s mood. Katara brought their meal with little preamble; talked with Jet as casually as any day while he stared resolutely at his reflection in his tea. 

She was barely gone from in front of them before the words blurted from his mouth. 

_We should ask her out sometime._

Zuko had been mortified. Would Jet see the request as innocent? Would he be _upset?_ They ate in near silence. But then — between the scrape of Jet’s chopsticks and his last bite of sashimi —

_Yeah. We should._

His shock had been palpable, and he’d carried it with him throughout the day. To say the least, their talk over the matter during dinner that night had moved from the table to the couch — to the floor. To their bed. And now — _now_ —

“Oh. Rokura,” Katara greets him as she always does as he steps into Wu’s. She is as lovely as ever, with her hair braided back and a kind smile on her mouth. “good morning... Jet’s ash-banana muffintop is just about to come out of the oven. I have your breakfast bento right here with your—”

“Zuko,” he corrects her before she can continue, letting his latent dominance — his confidence, derived from the fact that he is _allowed to want this;_ that his partner does _too_ — drape him in the way that makes people look at him the way he wants them to. Besides. He asked her out; there’s no way he’s letting her keep things so formal. “good morning to you too. Are we still on for the night? You seemed excited yesterday.”

Katara’s mouth parts prettily in pause, her lashes fluttering as she pumps hazelnut into a piping hot to-go cup with _IMAAN_ written across the front. In a blink her kind smile turns shy, if not coy, and her ocean eyes seem to glitter. Zuko feels a slow heat start somewhere deep within his gut. He flits his gaze around the otherwise empty cafe — out the window, across the street, where he can see the figure of his boyfriend leaning against his car — and back to her. From far behind the counter, a loud familiar ding of Wu Cafe’s oven sounds out.

 _“Rokura_ ,” Katara rolls it off her tongue as she starts backward toward the kitchens. It’s deliberate; playful, and it makes his dom heart sing. A wide, amused smirk pulls at his mouth without his permission. “I’m on the clock, you know... And yes, I _am_ looking forward to tonight.”

Dragonflies flutter behind his ribs. “Thank you Katara,” he murmurs when she returns shortly with the expected paper-wrapped dessert for him to examine. He barely glances at it, knowing; trusting; that there are no nuts. Zuko pays for his morning parcel and accepts it carefully, so that his fingers brush over hers. “Is there a chance you might—?”

Behind him the bell over the door to Wu’s chimes tellingly. Katara’s watchful eyes dart over his shoulder and back, her smile going from coy and right back to professionally polite. Another early customer, then.

 _Sorry_ , she mouths the word. Zuko dismisses it with a tilt of his chin. “It’s okay,” he tells her, easing away from the counter. “I’ll text you, yeah?”

Impossibly, her eyes brighten at the words. Katara nods, and Zuko leaves Wu’s with a lightness to his step.

Ever century, Jet is still leaning against the car. He raises an eyebrow in silent questioning and shifts to open the passenger door for Zuko.

Zuko says nothing. “You’re blushing,” his boyfriend smirks knowingly.

“ _Fuck_ you,” Zuko rolls his eyes.

“Save that energy for later, darlin’,” Jet laughs, leaning against the car’s frame so that he can look at him head on. “I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”


	3. Katara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how i am managing to write ~~anything~~ this between research for my organic land management plan and parsing through the fuckload that is macroecon is a whole mystery to me. anyway. [song on](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=X0W9XsOWSfK7b02KDAcP1w)!
> 
> comments are fuel ♡.

* * *

(815) 231 1700 [maybe Zuko]: _Zuko, here. I was going to ask if there was a chance that you’d like to sit down with us at lunch today? If not that’s fine._

It came within moments after he’d left. Katara had saved his number between another tea order and setting cookies to cool, and her heart had lurched erratically as she typed out her response; just as it did when he’d so boldly asked her to dinner with his _boyfriend_ , and just as it did when he’d walked through the cafe door. She couldn’t — can’t — remember the last time she’d been more than happy to be opening the cafe by her lonesome in the mornings.

She couldn’t remember the last time that someone she had any kind of crush on was actually interested in _her_ in return.

K: _Hi_. _I might be able to swing that._

Zuko: _That’s_ _great. See you later, Katara._

The interaction was so casual that she hadn’t known how to reply, so she’d opted to say a simple _see ya_ in light of her nerves. She’d never been so anxious — _or_ impatient — for the rush of lunch hour before, but before she knew it her noon co-workers were clocking in, Jet was in line for their usual, and Zuko was being seated in one of the window booths.

 _Hey! I can’t sit for super long_ , she’d said after letting Meng take over the counter, _but thank you for inviting me_ _anyway_.

Jet and Zuko had only shared a strangely amused look before turning her way. Katara’s heart had lurched again, and she’d wished she’d thought to order a drink for herself to hide behind as they traded pleasantries with her. The stunningly attractive couple had taken up a single side of the booth — no doubt for her comfort, but facing them both at once had made her ears turn warm. Usually talking to them was a breeze, but the dynamic of easy acquaintanceship just _wasn’t_ the dynamic anymore. It was leaning, quickly, toward something more romantically inclined. Something more blatantly sexual. She could tell from the way Zuko’s demeanor, typically so reserved and civil, had exuded as much playfulness as the bright glint of his molten sunset stare when she talked with Jet. She could tell from the way Jet’s dark gaze lingered over her features when she exchanged quips with Zuko.

She’d observed them just as much, though certainly less openly, as she’d started to notice certain... tells. Tells, that had made her heart skip terribly within its confines at the highly potential implications. It wasn’t until Jet cracked a joke and Zuko broke into one of the more lopsided grins she’d seen him take on that the tension left her shoulders, though. If either of them noticed, she could only guess. For a while they simply flirted teasingly with one another, but after a few minutes of trading companionable banter their talk had dissolved towards their dinner plans. She’d nearly blushed at the mere mention, but had made it through her jitters and concluded their conversation. 

_We’ll pick you up,_ Jet had confirmed. _I’ll call ahead_ , Zuko had nodded along. _Sounds good! Can’t wait,_ Katara had told them with a proper flirtatious smirk, but before she could step away from their booth and return to the counter Jet’s light, inquiring tone had snagged her attention once more.

 _Oh, and Katara?_ Jet asked. She’d smiled at him in question, but it was Zuko who’d answered. Zuko, who put the spark in her belly as he finished his boyfriend’s sentence. _Wear something pretty_.

Affront had nearly pulled at her mouth — the blush she’d been keeping at bay had finally won out instead. Her face heated terribly at the casual demand. At the continued boldness. At the then _startlingly_ clear implications.

Presently, Katara shucks off her apron in the tiny closet that functions as the employee locker room, mind still replaying the conversation over lunch on a loop. Her face warms again as she trades in her work shoes for the boots she’d started the day in. Keys in hand, she walks from the room and past Aunt Wu’s office to the side exit, pausing briefly to wave goodbye to Aunt Wu herself and to Jaladhi, the evening shift lead.

Katara takes out her phone and starts a new message as she steps into the cool afternoon air. Not for the first time, dragonflies flutter in her gut as she remembers both this morning and the day before. With excitement fueling her pace, she rounds the bustling corner of Wu’s and into the back alley to retrieve her moped from its usual spot, resisting the urge to squeal where anyone might see her.

_Wear something pretty..._

She nibbles her lip for a moment. She’d already allowed herself to squeal into her hands several times in the washroom after Zuko came in that morning. Truthfully she would’ve done it _yesterday_ , but she’d just been so _shocked_ , _so_ shocked, that when work hours bled right into school hours like they tended to do, she’d had little time in between or after to think about the situation in detail. 

_Wear something pretty..._

With a shake of her head in an attempt to calm her whirling mind, Katara finishes typing out her message, knowing that she needs to just go ahead and talk about it in order to help ease some of the jitters that have returned to her. Besides, she sees no need to keep the reason for her excitement to herself, especially since she _officially_ said yes to dinner plans with the couple just hours ago. 

K: _Suki._

Katara pauses to dash her gaze over the alley and then swing her leg over her bike. She settles her weight into the familiar comfort of her seat and frowns when she is not met with an immediate response. Now that she’s finally free to actually entertain the giddy fluttering in her gut, she does not hold back.

K: _Suki._

K: _Suki._

K: _Suki._

K: _Suki._

Suki: _What in koh’s name_

K: _Suki._

Suki: _WHAT_

Katara grins dumbly at her phone.

K: _You remember the super hot guy couple from Wu’s? The regulars??_

Suki: _I remember the super hot brown eyed girl and the super hot brown eyed girl only_

Katara almost rolls her eyes, but that would be disrespecting Jaladhi, who is, in fact, super fucking hot.

K: _Fair_

K: _But anyway_

K: _They asked me on a date........_

K: _Suki...._..

Suki: _OH._

K: _YEAH_

Suki  : _GO._

K: _I AM. TONIGHT ACTUALLY_

K: _Attatchment - 1 image_

K: _Name, address and phone numbers_. _If you tell anyone I snagged this info from the tea order log at Wu’s I might actually kill you._

Suki: _Wow_. _Not if they kill you first_

K: _I’m counting on it ;)_

Suki: _OH IT'S THAT KIND OF DATE_

K: _YEAH IT KINDA IS._

K: _ANYWAY GOTTA GO GET READY SO BYW_

K: _BYE_

Her dumb grin turns into a private peel of laughter as she locks her phone and puts it away with the paper. Spirits. Is she really so pumped about her night out — her _first date_ in _over three semesters_ — that she can’t even spell? Katara reasons with herself as she dons her helm and starts her moped, the dragonflies swooping low in her belly in a synchronized dance. _This is no mere dat_ e, she amends silently as she turns onto the road. No. This is a dinner date and _more_ with not one, but two — _two! —_ highly attractive men. And these men are not just _any_ men. They’re Zuko Rokura and Jet Imaan, her favorite customers second only to Toph Beifong, the loud mouthed girl with milky jade eyes that _work better than everyone else’s, actually_ — end quote — and she has every intention to allow herself to enjoy all their fine company has to offer.

Her stomach twists as dual gazes of gold and onyx flash across her mind. 

_Wear something pretty..._

Oh she has _every_ intention to. 


	4. Jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah idk how long the power is gonna stay on, but here! have this !! beware the typos !!! [don’t forget the song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=p0g5IqLHR8yo89_nAIRURw) !!!! ur comments are my literal fuel !!!!! ♡

* * *

Jet is thankful for the task of driver. He isn’t sure that he could keep his hands to himself otherwise, and he’d already had trouble on the way out of their flat. Next to him, Zuko lounges in the passenger seat with the poise worth of Jet’s endless, teasing, regal set of nicknames, sunglasses pushed up and gaze trained cooly out to the passing scenery of the city outskirts. He thinks to dwell on how lucky it is that Katara lives on the way to the fairgrounds, but Zuko’s impressive figure begs all of his attention. 

His boyfriend wears a borrowed shirt of pale yellow and white stripes, the top buttons undone and the hem tucked neatly into his dark pants. The short sleeves are rolled to reveal spans of curving blank ink, but even worn loosened the fabric clings to his broad shoulders.

He looks good enough to eat; almost too good to share. Maybe he’ll make a wrong turn and just take him home...

Zuko catches him looking just as the light changes. Jet winks; chuckles, when he’s rewarded with the faintest of blushes.

“Jet. Eyes on the road.”

“Zuko.” Jet says with a grin; doing as he’s told. “No.”

His boyfriend sighs knowingly. “It does no good to dress up if it’s off before we arrive.”

“Ah,” Jet follows the last of the map blown up on his phone. “so you’ll let me.”

“Yes — but _not_ before you let me.”

Jet shoots his boyfriend a smirk and a dark, pointed look. Before expressing his interest in Katara Zuko had lost his cool manner to his quieter, needier side, but now that they’re _doing_ this it’s clear the tables have reverted. 

He adjusts the lapels of his own white button down absently, glancing at himself in the rear mirror as they turn down a street lined with tall homes. “If you want to make it even _remotely_ closer to Katara’s,” Jet warns him breezily, “you’ll be good and watch that mouth. Save the sass for her or I might have your hide.”

Zuko laughs and reaches across the middle console; purposely walks his fingers up Jet’s thigh. 

“You will?” He asks.

Jet’s phone pings at him: _you have arrived,_ and he slides his arm behind Zuko’s seat so that he can back into the unoccupied slot in the car park; so he can lean in and murmur and look his boyfriend in the eye. “Darlin’. You _know_ that I will.”

Silence. A shiver works through his boyfriend as his stare turns coy. “Hm.” Jet hums, unsatisfied. “Go on, say it.”

Zuko’s seatbelt slithers quickly across his body. He’s smiling, but Jet doesn’t match it until he says, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Jet kisses him, chaste but firm and nibbling just enough. “Now let's get your girl.”

The walk up to Katara’s porch is a quick one. A thrill of excitement finally makes its way down his spine as he reaches for the doorbell. It’s been a long time since he’s been on a date with anyone but Zuko, and even longer since he’s even liked a girl; fortunately, his boyfriend hasn’t been shy about speaking on his own anticipation on the matter. He curls his pinky around Zuko’s ringed one as they wait, happily reassured when Zuko returns the affectionate grip. 

When the front door opens it isn’t Katara at first — a roommate, perhaps, for the short-haired woman in pj’s merely tilts her head back and shouts into the house at the sight of them. “Hi,” Zuko offers, but the girl only offers a too-wide grin before promptly disappearing.

Jet raises his eyebrow. He is not surprised to see Zuko doing the same, but they are spared any further awkwardness by the very woman they have come to collect.

A curse falls out of him before he can think to stop it. 

“ _Damn_ ,” he mutters in contrast to Zuko’s silence. Above them from the short flight to door frame, Katara stands center stage. She is a woman he’s never seen before; without her apron and her hair cascading free. The thin twine of gladiator straps vine attractively down her legs; the rest of her, decked in icy blue. 

Jet’s mouth dries. The instant heat of attraction flushes through him like a scorching flame, and by the way Zuko’s hand tightens minutely over his he knows that his sentiment is shared. The dress is short and sleeveless; covered in pink petals. It’s pretty — _she’s_ pretty, just like they asked, and _Spirits_ above him, his mouth is _very_ dry.

“Damn.” He says it again. On purpose this time, but certainly no less dreamy. “Hello, Katara.”

Zuko stirs beside him. “I see that you don’t accept challenges lightly.”

A blush dusts across Katara’s nose, her small smile widening as her gaze shifts between them, “Hello, Jet,” she says softly. His heart thumps in his chest, and then _again_ when she cuts her eyes to Zuko and daringly flashes her teeth. “and no, Zuko. You will find that I don’t.”

Jet bites back a joyous laugh at the naughty, shadowed look that shadows clearly across Zuko’s molten honey gaze. The thrum of anticipation turns into electricity in the warm evening air, and a wide smirk pulls at Jet’s mouth as he clears his throat and offers Katara his arm.

It seems that his boyfriend is going to have his hands full.

“ _Well_ then,” Jet rumbles heartily, eager to see _exactly_ how this date will go. “Katara, sweetheart. Are you ready for tonight?”

She is only holding her phone but she closes the door behind her and starts down the steps anyway.

“Very,” she says, looking up at him from under her dark lashes; her glossy pink mouth curving into a sweet smile. Tentatively, she rests her free hand over his arm, her grip tightening reciprocally when he flexes his bicep under her touch. “I’m hoping to have a lot of fun with you two.”

Jet’s pulse thuds at the dual motes of response.

It seems that his hands will be just as full tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [a lil visual i made for ya](https://slpytea.tumblr.com/post/643312445314777088/).


	5. Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all ever been so afraid to dream that you stay awake for two days straight instead????? honestly, you’d think i’d add some chapters to [lemon, two sugars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27224590?view_full_work=true) with how awake i’ve been lmao
> 
> bewaaare the typos ~  
> [don’t forget the song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=p0g5IqLHR8yo89_nAIRURw)!

* * *

Really, she couldn’t have picked an outfit more perfect. For their date he’d secured tickets for the Cherry Blossom Festival; wristbands for the rides. The tiny petals flecked across the baby blue fabric of her dress are a perfect rendition of the clear evening sky, an excellent capture of the rich pink blossoms that escape on the winds from their branches. The lovely, calming sight is the reason why spring has always been his favorite. He decides he likes it even more now, the way it’s draped across her. 

At first he feared that Katara wouldn’t care overmuch for the Festival — the last woman he liked would’ve rather gouged her eyes out with edge of a dull knife — but Jet had quickly steered him from that line of anxious thinking, proclaiming that they should wait and simply see how Katara will react. Zuko is glad for taking the advice. 

From the moment she saw the lights teeming from the fairgrounds, Katara’s excitement became evident in every inch of her movement. The way she bounced on the balls of her sandals while they stood in line for entry; the quirk of her mouth when Jet had bet that she couldn’t beat him at the watergun game. Her bright open laughter, reassuring in its familiarity from time spent at Wu’s, and how it peeled out of her when he made a fool of himself while pretending to be lost in the last corners of a garden maze. The way her eyes lit up with joy when she spotted a different carnival activity to drag them to; how she looked at Jet with those same joyous eyes after he won her a koi plushie, and how she looked at _him_ when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Zuko fights back the balloon of emotion in his chest as his thoughts continue to whir; as he sits back and watches Jet circle an arm around Katara’s waist so that he can lean down and murmur against her ear. He points this way and that, helping her decide on what kind of ice cream to get. Zuko’s own paper cup of shaved mango ice is already half gone, and he eats it leisurely as the couple takes their time. Suddenly, he is grateful that he sits across the grassy walk, holding their picnic table. The view of Katara leaning into Jet’s touch, one delicate hand coming up to splay absently over his shoulder as her body turns toward him, as she apparently decides on a flavor, makes anticipatory heat unfurl in his chest. Katara looks _good_ snuggled up to his boyfriend; _right_ , even, like she’s belonged there the whole time; and as much as he likes her dress, he really, _really_ wants her out of it — not that he’s gotten around to bringing that up quite yet.

On the tabletop next to her phone, her koi plushie glares at him.

“Mind your business,” Zuko murmurs around his little wooden spoon, looking away from the toy as a group of kids zoom past. “I _am_ going to ask her.”

And he is — they _are_. It’s just that the first of the Cherry Blossom Festival fireworks are due to start in about an hour at sunset, and he’d explained to Jet that he wants it to be as memorable as possible when he dares to finally, _finally_ sink his teeth into that full, gorgeous bottom lip and ask —

“Alright there, darlin’?” Jet, nearly at the table and leading Katara by their interlaced fingers, quirks a brow at him from behind an ice cream cone. His earthen eyes glitter knowingly in the flashing fair lights, and Zuko scoops his shaved ice into his mouth so that he doesn’t have to fight too hard to keep a blush from his face. 

“Mm-hmm.”

“ _Mm-hmm_ : good,” Katara asks, coming to sit by his side as Jet stretches his legs across the opposite bench. “or _mm-hmm_ : you’re okay?”

“More than okay,” he answers Katara as she settles in close. He immediately, thoughtlessly, opens his arm to her; letting it fall easily — and everything with her _is_ easy; so easy it startles him — in the exact spot around her waist where Jet’s had been, and lets her rest against his side. “the fireworks start in about an hour. I was thinking we could grab a few drinks before then.”

Jet’s eyes meet his look from across the table, but Katara quickly snags both of their attention, and Zuko has to force himself to keep his breathing normal when he looks down to see those brilliant ocean eyes trained directly on him.

“Hm... Fireworks sound nice but I’d much rather have that drink at your place.” Katara smiles, sly as a snowfox as she slides her gaze to Jet and back. “Maybe more — if you’ll have me, that is?”

Stunned silent — and _how_ many times has she done that tonight? — Zuko blinks slowly, his eyes crinkling into a both startled and amused smile that’s also attempting to claim his mouth. Across the table Jet lets out the most delighted raspy laughter. “You want to come home with us sweetheart?” 

“Don’t be coy. I think you know that I do.” Katara levels a sultry look his way around a bite off her waffle cone. She extracts herself from Zuko’s side suddenly; stands and steps to the head of the picnic table. “Just in case you didn’t, I’m more than happy to make it clear. Jet. Zuko,” her eyes dart between them. Zuko feels the balloon of emotion in his chest grow and grow. “not only are you both super charming — and kind, and sweet — but also,” she nibbles her bottom lip, ”I find you both ridiculously attractive. And while the Festival has been _really_ fun and I’d love to do something like this again soon, I’d be a lying lemur if I said that I wasn’t at all interested in occupying your bed tonight.”

Muted silence weighs over their table. Around them the Festival continues; laughter and lights and endless game sounds, people taking pictures under the cherry trees. Zuko tilts his head towards his boyfriend, eyes glued ahead as if afraid to lose sight of the impossibly perfect woman who stands before them.

They’ve gotten to know her a lot today, and yet at every chance she surprises them anew.

“Jet,” Zuko asks carefully, mindful of the way his voice dips; of the way Katara snatches a drop ice cream with a curl of flickering pink. “what say you, Sir?”

“Darlin’,” Jet drawls after a beat, “I say that we drink at home.”


	6. Katara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmm. this fic has a mind of its own. it has literally grown legs at an extra 7k in length. so... _yeah_............ [don’t forget the song on repeat](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=p0g5IqLHR8yo89_nAIRURw), lads. buckle up, and beware the typos ♡.

* * *

Katara had not been sure what to expect in light of her bold claim, but she certainly hadn't held her breath. 

Sure, since taking on the job as a lead at Wu’s Cafe, Jet and Zuko had struck her attention; aside from being one of Aunt Wu’s most consistent and valued pair of clients, they were amiable, sweet, and perfectly charming — and just her kind of wry jocose. Jet constantly cracked dumb jokes when he picked up their lunch, and on his less quiet mornings Zuko was quick to slip her a sly remark or two; leaving her laughing as if she’d actually been tickled. And, sure, there was that one time she accidentally tripped in front of Zuko, and, _sure_ , she can admit to herself that Zuko might have caught her in every which-way; with strong arms around her waist and gold eyes that seemed to strip her down to her bones; for many a time she _had_ wondered about what those arms and hands might really be like, on and around her. What they might look like on and around _Jet..._

Yes, she can admit that, the minute Zuko had touched her — _I’ve got you_ , he’d rumbled — she knew that she was in trouble. _Avoidable_ trouble due to the more professional relationship, but trouble nonetheless. Yet being with them tonight felt different — it felt comfortable and free; the kind that comes with the distinct _click_ of actual friendship on the horizon. Easy, like she could say _you know what? Nevermind,_ and it wouldn’t even matter because they would still walk away from tonight nonplussed and on excellent terms.

Thus, she had it in her head that it would simply go one way or another; yes, or no; and either way she refused to to be disappointed after such a wonderful time out — so when Jet had held her stare with a fire in his sharp eyes, even though his words had not been for her — _darlin’_ , he said, _I say we drink at home_ — a giddiness had set the tips of her fingers tingling. 

_Oh shit,_ she’d thought around an absent lick of ice cream, ensnared by that telling onyx gaze. _Oh shit, this is happening._

In that second it was as if all of the falling blossom petals had taken up refuge in the space between her heart and her ribs; a mix of both apprehension and anticipation aflutter in her gut as Jet and Zuko patiently waited for her to finish her waffle cone over small talk — in which, she observed the lightest switch in demeanor, so light that she likely would’ve missed it had she not been so thoroughly caught up in them; their smiles, their laughter, and the way they left little lingering touches on her person; with how they had her _seeking_ those fleeting little touches... 

This was not her first casual rodeo betwixt two people by far, but it _was_ her first time being so _tuned in_ to her company. She had found herself nearly startled by the absolute clarity of the fact. 

When they left the fairgrounds and Jet tossed Zuko his keys, saying something about _the rundown of our rules_ with an _infinitely_ telling smirk, she should not have been shocked by the intensity of the fissure of excitement that shot down her spine; through her belly, and to her toes. She clutched her plushie and her phone tightly to her chest out of reflex, throwing Jet a confused look when after he opened the door to the back seat for her, he slipped in right after. She had assumed that they would depart to the Cherry Blossom Festival just as they had arrived — with her buckled into the back, leaning forward over the middle console and happily chatting and laughing away with them — but when she had caught Zuko’s honeyed stare in the rearview mirror, it had become abundantly clear that the duo had a different plan in mind.

 _You know, Katara,_ Jet said as he carefully reached over to ease her seatbelt across her body. The back of his hand had just barely brushed thigh, and she only _barely_ repressed a shiver at the slight. _We’ve been thinking about this for a while._

 _What_ , she had replied dumbly, hardly noticing as Zuko started the car and pulled them from the crowded lot. She had been far too enraptured by Jet sitting right next to her in the back seat of his own ride; far too enraptured by the broadness of his frame and the heat he radiated, so very distinct from the comforting warmth that had accompanied his presence during their time laughing and joking at the festival. A heaviness had started to weigh in the atmosphere between them, and she had to keep her breath from quickening. 

_I don’t — thinking about what?_ She’d managed to get out, forcing herself not to notice how his thigh rested against hers, or the alluring curve of his mouth as it pulled into a small smile. From behind the wheel, Zuko had let out a disbelieving little chuckle that matched the quirk of Jet’s brow.

 _This_ , and the baritone of Jet’s voice; so close; so _low_ and _smooth_ and _quiet_ in the confines of the car; had washed over her in a delicious wave that made her want to cross her legs. _Spending time with you_ , he said. He had lifted a hand, slow and careful so that she could track the movement, and tucked a wind-swept curl behind her ear. _Being more than... friends._

What followed had been a serious, though rather tender sort of confession that all but took Katara’s breath away; a telling between the couple of how Zuko developed an apparent sweet-tooth in her regard, and Jet’s own favor of their frequent rapport — how this started _for_ Zuko, and has somehow morphed into a mutual thing — what they might be okay with and what they might not — and though that is how the car ride had started; with friendly touches and meaningful conversation confirming consent; that is not how it stayed, nor how it ended. Just as Zuko announced their impending arrival to their home in the city, she had asked Jet, hushed but eager:

 _Can I trust you?_

He had tilted his head at her and spoke with an amused lilt, a widening smirk. 

_I would like that very much_.

Katara refused a chuckle. _Can I kiss you?_

Jet’s mirth had simmered instantly. _I would like that_ very _much._

She kissed him; every single one of them moaned when her lips met his. Zuko’s reaction had made her giggle into Jet’s own returning grin, at the way the car swerved just a bit; to know he was looking — _Zuko,_ Jet had chided, _eyes on the road_ — but just as quickly Jet descended on her with _more_. He rumbled her name between gentle, claiming kisses, as if savoring the sound; kisses that tasted like matcha ice cream and had her breath skipping. Ones she met ardently, with curious lips and increasingly needy sighs.

 _Katara_ , Jet’s hand had settled on her knee, _sweetheart_ , _show us what you want._

Now she nips her way down Jet’s neck, his hands coming up to undo the buttons hindering the progression of her reverent exploration. Whatever cologne he has on has been teasing her all night, and the full scent of the swarthy note up close is enough to drive her mad. He hoists her sideways across his lap just as she scrapes her teeth over the swell of his pectoral, her back to the door and his arm secure around her waist so that she sits flush against him. She mewls at the sure, easy way he handles her, and she agrees breathlessly when he asks, “ _oh_ , you like that?”

There is laughter in his tone; an excited glint in his look. A blush heats her cheeks as Jet’s fingers dance up her bare shoulder; into the curls at her nape so that he can tilt her face up just so. Katara’s breath hitches at the faint glisten of his mouth from their kissing, and she fists her hand over the next button on his shirt as she drags her eyes upward to purposely lock with his. From the front seat a broken growl sounds out, pained and hungry, and Katara tears her gaze away from impossibly darkening onyx only to find impossible honeyed gold already staring her down.

“We’re home,” Zuko announces gruffly. He sits with an elbow propped on the middle console with keys in hand, and only then does Katara realize that they’re parked in a concrete garage. “as nice as the view has been, I’d much rather be a participant. Let’s go up.”

Katara’s heart lurches horribly.

 _Those arms around her; those_ perfect _tattooed biceps that she’s been staring at. All. Fucking. Night..._ She doesn’t realize her vocal cords have stopped working with her brain until she feels Jet speaking at her ear; feels the way his hands settle on her hips and the way he presses his hardening erection suggestively against her thigh.

“What do you say?” He asks her quietly.

A sudden silence weighs between them in the cabin of the car. Something in Zuko’s gaze seems to darken as he looks at her; the air around him growing almost expectant in the span of a moment. Jet’s tall frame, all but shrouding hers, goes patiently still underneath her, and she cannot help but feel that the accumulation of their tells — their _tells_ and their _implications_ and their _touches_ and their _hints_ — have been leading up to this precise moment.

_What do you say?_

Katara’s heart skips. She knows exactly what to say; looks at Zuko through her lashes and holds no fear as she utters the words _yes, sir_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the whisper of the curse falls from two mouths; Katara bites her lip and keeps her smile to herself. The hiss of Zuko’s seatbelt sounds in the same second that Jet encircles his arms around her waist in a firm hug and in a blink Zuko is gone; the driver's side door closing with a solid _thunk_. “ _Girl_ ,” Jet purrs, his smooth baritone muffled from where he’s buried his face in her hair. “I just _knew_ you were trouble.”

Katara can only laugh. The thrilling race of her heart allows for nothing else.

Zuko leads the way through the car park with his fingers laced firmly with hers, Jet trailing at her side, her phone in his pocket and her plushie carefully in his hand. She can’t help but giggle at him, but Jet only cocks an eyebrow at her and says, “as if you had nothing to with this?”

Katara smiles, allowing Zuko to pull her along and into the empty waiting elevator, settling into the warmth of his embrace once he has her where he wants her; standing between his legs, flush against him with her hands on his shoulders. She looks at Jet, a mere reach away, and unhurriedly takes in his still kiss-reddened mouth and unbuttoned shirt. “I am _quite_ aware that I had everything to do with it,” she answers him demurely. She is rewarded with a testy hum from Zuko, the sound vibrating right through to her, and the heavy-lidded glare of Jet’s dark eyes. Her smile widens. “I plan on finishing it, too...”

With a deep groan, Zuko firmly grips her chin and slants his mouth over hers in a domineering kiss, to which she meets him eagerly. “All day, you’ve been running that mouth at us,” he growls against her lips, and Katara positively _melts_ against him at the delicious timbre; at the reprimand hiding in the nuance of his words. “I cannot wait to finally _shut you up_.”

The tiniest, most shameless of sounds escape her as she snaps back — “ _do it_ , then,” — but Zuko parts her lips with his and swallows it whole. A thrum sings loudly through her body at the way he kisses her — underlined with promise, one hand holding her face and the other gripping a handful of her ass through the skirt of her dress — and she wonders only briefly if their first kiss would’ve been sweet and gentle, had she had asked to see the fireworks, instead of the commanding, hungry, spine-melting kiss he is lavishing her with now.

“Agni’s _sake_ ,” Zuko breaks away with a gasp, to which she makes an embarrassing whine of disagreement, but he only does it to leave dragonfly kisses up her jaw. “I have wanted to do that for a while...”

“I’ve wanted to _see_ that for a while.” Jet murmurs from their side. Katara shivers at the revelation; as Zuko nips the spot beneath her ear; at the fact that Jet has clearly not once dropped his heavy onyx gaze from them. The elevator finally slows, and she watches with rapt attention when Jet places a lingering, chaste kiss along the line of Zuko’s neck and beckons him forward. “Come on,” he says, “bed’s waiting, darlin’.”

Katara lets out an eager, aborted mewl at the mention of _bed_ — how quickly they have shifted away from the pretense of _drinks_ — and the images piling up quickly in her mind. Jet and Zuko share a throaty laugh as they usher her out of the elevator and down a hall of sleek doors. The sync of the sound settles heat in the pit of her gut, and she knows that the one really in trouble is without a doubt going to be _her_.

Unbridled excitement pools in her gut too, right next to the heightening heat. 

Apartment 3-12, plated in gold and unlocked with the swipe of a keycard. Over the threshold of what is a large, seamless space of dark brick walls and wide windows, the first thing Katara does is slip her hand from Zuko’s — “make yourself at home,” he tells her — and reach down to carefully undo the straps of her sandals so that she can leave them with the few pairs lined against the wall of the dim foyer.

“Water for the lady, your highness.” Jet says to Zuko, his own shoes making their way next to hers. _Your highness?_ She thinks with mirth, but to her keen appreciation Zuko moves through their flat to follow the order without so much as an apparent thought. “You,” Jet murmurs, snagging her attention with his mouth at her ear and a guiding hand on her hip. The heat of his palm sears through her dress, and Jet smiles knowingly when a small shiver works its way through her. “with me, sweetheart. You’re going to finish what you started...”

Katara levels him with a baleful look of both defiance and guarantee. “Lead on, o wise loser of waterguns...”

“ _Brat_ ,” Jet laughs the word, conceding to the playful dig, but the call-out still makes her heart leap promptly into her throat. He adds pressure to the hand at her hip and starts her forward through the open den of their home. “if you think I’m talking about _anything else_ besides _me_ finishing _you.._.” 

Katara runs her hands up his back, too busy reveling in the muscle she feels there to really take in the jewel tones of the bedroom he leads her to. “ _On_ me,” she mutters, grinning at how Jet stills at the correction. She relents her touch and comes to stand before him, her grin turning coy at the return of his impossibly dark glare and the predatory way it tracks her every move. “... Is this okay?” She asks, backing into the end of their spacious bed; settling in the center and smoothing her hands across the cool duvet.

Zuko’s voice cuts through the room. “Perfect,” he rumbles, ensnaring her gaze. In his hands he holds a tray of glass. Jet is silent, and though she can feel his stare remaining heavy and resolutely trained on her face, she is completely unable to look away from the walking specimen that is Zuko. Somewhere between _your highness_ and preparing that tray he took the time to unbutton and untuck his shirt, and her mouth can’t decide if it should dry or water at the alluring display of muscle; at the swirling lines of the black dragon that disappear into the hem of his pants right alongside the sharp _v_ cut of his abdomen.

“Katara,” Jet steps closer, interrupting her — admittedly, _blatant_ — eye fucking of his boyfriend. He runs his hand from her knee to the hem of her skirt, where he thumbs at the icy blue fabric before giving it a gentle tug. “as pretty as it is, I want this off of you.”

Katara raises an eyebrow at him, even as her breath catches in excitement. She’s wearing something _pretty_ underneath, too; without a doubt at least a _little_ soaked by now; and she is very much looking forward to their reaction, considering the first. 

“Then you should take it off,” she says, sultry and quiet. “shouldn’t you?”


	7. Jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love doing these introspective ~flashbacks and blending them into the present?? idk... just super fun. anyway, [don’t forget the song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VzbhVg77OSCpuMDfjdL72?si=-AVGO2CNSZKSC-ZpdfQY3g)! beware the typos + ur comments are my fuel ♡.

* * *

From the moment she’d crushed him at his first silly challenge during the Cherry Blossom Festival — _sorry,_ she’d smirked, _what trash were you talking?_ — Jet _officially_ knew then that they were actually in for it. Knew that their hands weren’t just full, but full of _trouble_. On the ride to the festival, Katara had been perfectly cheery and polite, but once he’d gotten his ass handed to him at waterguns, it’d been as if the floodgates had burst open. He’d seen it in the way she made Zuko trip over himself trying to make her laugh; something he only did when he was crushing and crushing _hard_. He saw it in the way she undressed Zuko with her gaze at every possible chance. Felt it in the way that she smiled so coyly at _him_ ; in every little touch she’d returned to his person. More than anything he saw the way she put stars in his boyfriend’s eyes; saw the way that she made his dominant nature settle over him and practically made him preen.

So, yeah, a part of him knew that Katara was trouble. She was trouble, but she was just the kind of trouble that _Zuko_ needed — not him, though he was happy to entertain.

Even with that bit of notion in the front of his mind, it _still_ hadn’t made him ready for the way her lips felt tender against his, or the way she touched him with hot, hungry hands. It hadn’t readied him to hear _yes, sir_ from her mouth when she answered his query. Thankfully for both of them, Zuko handled her well. Jet had been all too keen to watch him put her in her place.

Katara from Wu’s was surely a joker; but Katara _herself_ was a mouthy minx. Of that, Jet became certain.

 _Brat_ , he had called her when they made it into their flat. She hadn’t denied it; _lit up_ at the call-out, even. To his continued shock, a delighted feeling had made his pulse skip at the implication. _If you think I’m talking about anything else besides me finishing you..._

Her touch had been warm even through his shirt. _On me_ , she’d muttered, and in less than a blink the switch in him had flipped. 

_Little girl_ , he’d almost growled at her the way he would Zuko when he was riling him up — without restraint, or watching his words. _Mind your mouth before I gag you quiet._

For the longest of seconds he had to rein himself in; teeth resolutely clicked shut behind his lips even as his eyes tracked every single little movement Katara made. Zuko would have his _balls_ if he scared her away, and it took more than he’d cared to admit to quell the wild streak that had reared its head within him... When he blinked open his eyes, Katara had been standing before him; sitting on their bed and then making herself comfortable.

She asked, _is this okay?_

 _No_ , he’d almost snapped. _On your knees_.

Zuko saved her a second time. At the sound of him Jet’s mouth had clicked shut once again; at the _sight_ of him, his mouth had promptly dried up. A single look his way was all it took to see that Zuko, holding a tray of ice water like the good boy he was, had practically rid himself of his shirt while at it. For another long second his boyfriend was _all_ that he wanted — but then he looked back to catch Katara’s stare, darkened and stormy at Zuko’s state of undress.

 _As pretty as it is_ , Jet had started up. Zuko’s presence and Katara’s look had set him in motion — and he’d been sure that he would behave just fine with his boyfriend close by. He’d tugged at Katara’s skirt. _I want this off of you._

Sultry and quiet, Katara had answered him. _Then you should take it off, shouldn’t you?_

Now, dual pitches of warning sounds rent the air. Jet is glad that his boyfriend finds Katara’s mouth _just_ as troublesome as he does.

“Zuko,” his voice dips an octave as he promptly brings Katara to her feet with his hands at her hips; as he brings her chest flush to his and picks pointedly at her shoulderless ensemble. Katara holds back a shudder — but his touch is warm and sure, and he is hard within the confines of his jeans; with the curve of him pressed firmly against her stomach, Jet can feel how the shudder works through her anyway. “darlin’, come give me a hand with this dress will you?”

Even though it’s a question, it is not a request by far. Jet watches with the sharpness of a snake-hawk as Katara bites her lip when Zuko steps forward with a low _yes, sir_ and quickly sets the tray down on the nearest surface. In the span of a moment, Zuko’s molten gaze meets his from over Katara’s shoulder, encouraging his heart to skip even more.

 _I’m with you_ , he knows the look to mean.

Katara stands nearly flush between them, and seeing the way his boyfriend’s eyes darken from gold to honey as she tips her head back over his shoulder makes a tiny smile pull at Jet’s mouth.

Between them — _so small in comparison_ , he realizes with a bubbly glee — another shiver works its way through Katara.

“Is this okay?” Jet watches raptly as Zuko’s smoky timbre at her ear makes her breath quicken, makes her press in close with a low, aimless sound. 

“Perfect,” Katara answers Zuko breathlessly, returning his earlier reassurance. Jet smirks down at her as he smooths his hands along the same trail that Zuko’s take over her dress. Watchful, hungry and waiting, the second Katara’s mouth parts at the feeling of their hands on her, Jet leans down to run the tip of his tongue along the line of her top lip before capturing her in deep kiss.

She sighs into it; Jet groans at the endlessly _warm_ feeling it elicits within him. 

He can hear Zuko making swift work of the zipper at Katara’s side, feels his hands curl over the hem of her skirt. At once, Jet hooks his fingers in the top of her dress, pushing where Zuko pulls, and in no time at all the icy fabric is whispering to the floor. Behind her, Zuko lets out a reverberating purr, and he can’t help but chuckle at the smirk that finds its way on her lips under his lingering kiss; as he takes her wrists and brings her a step forward; nibbles at her bottom lip in that way he’s starting to learn that she likes.

Katara moans just as Zuko mutters a curse. Jet let’s their kiss break so that he can look at her proper.

A pleased rumble starts low in his chest. Katara now stands between them in a dusty blue satin bralette that laces up the front; with strappy satin panties to match. There is a thin, sheer pink garter belt that leads down her waist, one line of fabric clipped on her left thigh in order to keep the pretty lace holster she’s been hiding underneath. 

“ _You wore something pretty._..” Jet groans, fingering the strips of silky fabric over the curve of her hip.

“She _did_ ,” Zuko agrees, gluing himself to her back again, and only then does he notice her dress neatly draped nearby. _Good boy_ , he almost says, but then he sees that Zuko’s got his hands in Katara’s hair; sees how his lips find the spot under her ear that he’d laid claim to just moments before in the elevator, and how it makes Katara shut her eyes and go lax between him. 

Jet groans again, long and low as he smooths his hands up her toned sides. “ _Very_ good, Katara.”

“Boys,” Katara suddenly pulls Jet forward by his rumpled collar, just as purposefully shifts her hips in a grind that has Zuko’s hands flexing where they sit buried in her hair and Jet hissing down at her. “maybe we would like this a lot better if we were all in an equal state of undress?”

A beat of silence steals the atmosphere, but it is just a beat. Katara’s words spurr a flurry of action that makes laughter from all of them bubble out into the air, but it dies quickly on his lips when he sees his boyfriend — completely shirtless now, pants unbuttoned but still on — spin Katara around to cup her face in his palms and start a trail of playful nips and licks down from her bottom lip, to her neck, and — after he sinks down with an impatient snarl and fits his hands on the backs of her thighs to hoist her up — over the swell of her chest. 

Jet’s tongue presses to the roof of his mouth as he tosses his shirt and tee away, also down to his jeans now. It’s quite the show, the way Katara pulls Zuko up for a kiss just as he tips her into the navy sheets of the bed; as she moans in encouragement when Zuko’s fingers start toying at the criss-crossing ties of her strapless bralette. Jet watches with hooded eyes and simmering heat as Katara does them _all_ a favor and helps Zuko pull the clothing off, if only to keep his mouth on hers.

With movement slowed by his rapt attention, Jet starts to peel away his jeans.

“ _Zuko_ ,” his boyfriend’s name flies from Katara’s mouth when he rolls a hardening nipple _just_ rough enough between his fingers. A slow grin forms Jet’s mouth when the call of Zuko’s name earns her a snap of his hips, and he cannot help but moan as he watches. “Zuko,” Katara mewls, and Zuko’s hips snap again as his lips trail to that favored spot right behind her jaw. “ _Zuko_...”

A nearly pained sound echoes out of his boyfriend, and in the next moment he is rolling off of Katara and standing at the side of the bed to start at the last of his clothes. Jet watches as Katara shivers at the change in temperature; watches her watch Zuko _undress_ , but the watching does not last for long. In his place, now free of his jeans, Jet crawls up the bed and settles carefully between her legs on his knees — grins sharply at the way she turns wide eyes to him and gasps at the sight. 

Jet hooks his fingers carefully under the straps of her garter. For a moment he just _looks_ , and a blush flushes from Katara’s collar up to her neck at the attention. “May I?” He asks her, tugging at the fabric in his hold. Katara nods, but he doesn’t move until she opens her mouth to say _yes_. “Good,” he says, and after a bit of suggestive wriggling her panties begin to follow. “I prefer verbal answers, sweetheart. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“ _What do you say?_ ” Zuko chides her from off to the side. Katara almost turns to look at him, but Jet slips off her lace holster and she turns to him imploringly. There is no real need, though: Jet can feel the rectangles of plastic concealed within the unassuming fabric, no doubt where’s shees been holiding her ID, and hads it off to Zuko who sequesters it away where he has left her dress.

“Thank you,” Katara murmurs as he drinks in her bare form — all creamy blushing skin and beautifully taut muscle.

“Trust me,” Jet tells her, boldly holding her stare. “the pleasure is all mine. Now,” he says, quirking an eyebrow and suggestively starting to press kisses along the inside of her bent knee; down her inner thighs; closer with each one to exactly where he can tell that she wants him. “if I might have that drink..?”

Katara sucks in a sharp breath; a small chuckle. “You may — _mmm!_ ”

The rest of her retort dies on her tongue as her head tips back into the pillows. Jet wastes no time; has her knees propped loosely over his shoulders, as licks into her wet heat in the same way he might fuck her — with long, sinuous strokes and a nice rough grind at the end. 

“ _Oh_ — _gods_ ,” Katara’s body gives a shudder. Jet resists his need to grin and starts a steady pattern of pressured licks that quickly brings a tremor to her thighs. Jet can’t remember when he last did this for a woman, but by the time he concludes that the present is paramount, he is watching Zuko return to Katara’s side so that he can slant his mouth over hers while she squirms. Jet groans at the vision above; at Katara’s ample chest heaving and the way her hips are trying to rock against his firm embrace; at Zuko, touching and kissing her with a certain reverence, at his pale hands sliding up Katara’s sides only to firmly cup her breasts.

“Katara,” Zuko murmurs, starting a trail of open, wet and warm kisses slowly down the curve of her neck. “Jet is going to hold you for me,” and, _okay_ , Jet will not be mad at Zuko taking charge of this how he pleases; it’s for him after all. By contrast, he dips two fingers into Katara and curls his tongue against her clit; gets her moaning for _him_ instead. Her eyes drop from Zuko’s to his, but she is no better for it — Zuko is _not_ finished talking. “and I’m going to fuck you nice and hard,” he continues, slowly tipping her chin back with a finger; bringing her eyes back to his. “how do you feel about that, princess?”

A broken moan works its way out of Katara, as her walls flutter desperately around his fingers. Jet chuckles from low in his chest, matching Zuko’s quiet laughter and making Katara squirm as he works her clit. “I had a feeling you’d like that. Is that a yes?” Zuko asks, gently nibbling at the corner of Katara’s bottom lip. “No?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Katara manages to breathe out the word. Jet hums disdainfully; her apparent coherency is a slight against his ministrations. He follows up the vibrating sound with the slightest, expert curl of his fingers in her; gives a firm suck over her swelling bundle of nerves. Her fingers fist in the sheets as a wanton cry falls past her lips. Zuko only gives his own hum, leaning back to lazily; appreciatively; trail his gaze down her body and lock eyes with him.

Molten gold, bright with predatory intent, softens just so. “I want her nice and wet for me, Jet,” Zuko says — _asks_ , “ _wet,_ and begging.”

Katara mewls. _Gonna make_ you _beg_ , Jet almost wants to say, but he knows Zuko’s heading and he agrees with it wholeheartedly. While fun, this thing between the three of them is still quite new; they were going to be careful and do one thing at a time.

Zuko will have Katara while Jet gets to watch.

As if in answer — and he’s a _liar_ , if he says that he isn’t eager to see — Katara’s body gains a fine sheen of sweat over her heaving chest. She closes her eyes with a deep gasp as her hips stutter, and Jet pumps his fingers into her with a low growl. 

“ _Yes_ ,” she babbles, arcing upward when Zuko drops his mouth to the valley of her breasts, threads her fingers in his silky hair. “ _yes_ ,” her hips rock; Jet watches Zuko’s teeth scrape over a nipple, “ _oh,_ yes —” Jet matches Zuko’s action over Katara’s clit _,_ “— _Jet_ ,” she whines, and, fuck _yeah_ that's what he wants to hear. “Jet. I’m close. Please. _Please_ _.”_

 _Well, fuck him._ With a groan, Jet pulls his mouth and hands away with lewd wet sounds. 

“ _N-no,_ ” Katara whines instantly, but Jet only laughs at her and crawls from under her legs, carefully ignoring the terrible ache of his cock confined within his boxers. Like the tides, Zuko switches spots with him smoothly.

“Don’t worry doll,” Jet placates Katara with a smirk as he comes to rest next to her at the head of the bed. He lowers his mouth to the shell of her ear as he’s fond to do, and makes her a promise that he sincerely hopes to keep. “I had every intention for my first time making you cum to be with my cock.”

Katara whines crossly. “ _Jet_ —” she starts, but the pad of Zuko’s thumb swipes through the slick of her folds, and the rest of her complaint dies off into a pleading moan for more. “Mhm,” Jet ghosts his hand across her ribs; up, in a fleeting path over her sternum. “yeah, sweetheart. It’ll be just like that.”

Zuko has a condom packet between his fingers, but to their surprise Katara stops him from ripping it open with a tentative hand. “Wait, wait,” she says, nibbling her lip. “I don’t need those if you don’t. I have check-ups pretty regularly. Birth control, too, if you’re wondering...”

Zuko’s sharp breath matches his. “That makes three of us. Well, _not_ the — are you sure, Katara?”

“Yes, sir,” she answers with a chuckle. Jet chokes on nothing where Zuko’s eyes flutter shut for a long second. “I’m as sure as I can be.”

“Jet,” Zuko calls out to him; low halted, “if you would, please...”

Jet knows what he wants even without fully asking. “Certainly,” he allows, quick to comply. “Katara, sweetheart, I’m going to move you...”

With careful hands he urges her to sit up, and lets out a pleased little hum at her easy obedience. Easily, with deft movement, Jet slides in behind her, the inside of his long legs molding around hers as his back presses into the bed’s pillows. Katara is hot to the touch; her body light but firm in his hold. Jet slowly lifts her arms over his head, tells her to lace her fingers around his neck.

Another pleased sound tightens his throat as she readily complies. In moments, Zuko is holding her open against him; hands on the back of her thighs, his grip tight with little give. Katara fits easily against him; _between_ them, with how much taller and broader they are than her lean frame and average height. It’s clear to him that Zuko intends for her to _stay_ like that — bent in half and spread wide, wide open. 

“Don’t worry,” Zuko rumbles from above Katara, his darkened golden gaze boring unrelentingly into hers. “I’ll touch you if you need me to.”

Katara lets out a long, desperate moan, disbelieving and embarrassingly turned on.

“I know, I _know_ ,” Jet murmurs against her ear, endlessly delighted in how the low of his voice sends nothing but more shivers through her body; endlessly delighted in watching his boyfriend steadily work her apart. “he’s something else, isn’t he?”

 _“Spirits,”_ Katara moans. _“Spirits, yes.”_

**Author's Note:**

>  **3/6:** hi friends! i'm still doing a bit of tweaking to the original plot for continuity reasons in the new chapters, so it might be some days or so from now before i update. anyway, ur patience is appreciated! — _x, ky_.


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